


the restoration and response

by imaginedecember



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Fake AH Crew, Implied/Referenced Violence, M/M, Multiple Universes, Non-Graphic Violence, Sexual Content, Sexual Imagery, Sky Factory AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-15 08:16:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15408792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginedecember/pseuds/imaginedecember
Summary: Sometimes when Michael fell asleep, he eased in between these multiple universes where the worlds AH created at work, in video games, appeared as actual, tangible worlds.And there's a connection between them.A daring, soul defying leap that involves one Jeremy Dooley.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Jeremy and Michael won't leave me alone and neither will this idea.
> 
> P.S. Michael 'I don't touch anyone' Jones touches Jeremy the Most and it is too much.
> 
> Warnings:
> 
> Be on the look out for **sexual imagery, and minor sexual content** as well as **implied/referenced non-graphic descriptions of violence**. For now, all the worlds that Michael will mention will be **Fake AH Crew/GTA V AU and Sky Factory AU** with most of it being in **real life, AH office** type setting. It'll just be those two AU universes, though, mostly because they are my two absolute favorite universes.
> 
>  **Warnings may change with the next chapter, as it has yet to be fully finished**.

Michael’s been keeping this secret for a damn while now. 

But like listen, alright.

He had shit to do. Shit to plan. Shit to take care of. Y’know podcasts and new Achievement Hunter shows. He didn’t have time to explain away the redness in his eyes – it’s, uh, contacts, right, because I’ve totally been trying those out again – the lanky, strangeness to him that made him look too weak for too much of a second – oh y’know just spending all night playing those video games. 

Until…until…

Touches.

It was the touches that connected these secrets to all these other spidery, webby secrets.

And Jeremy.

Of fucking course it had to be Jeremy. A catalyst just shoved into a tiny, buff form.

Jeremy leaned into him just to see something on his screen. Normal. Just leaned into him. But he rested there. Must’ve been comfy he guessed and then…

Jeremy just tilted his head up at him and smiled something so soft, like muddled Earth crumpled in Michael’s hands. 

Could mold that smile wrong or right.

Wanted to make it right.

Spit it out, fucking say it, fucking -.

“I’ve been having…” Swallowed hard. “Been having these fucking dreams, J.” Michael felt his fingers clench hard and white against the seam of his jeans, the fabric stretched along his thighs. “For a while now. A damn while.”

Jeremy’s smile tilted into the wrong and Michael frowned, almost caused permanent structural damage in his face from how hard, how damn fucking hard and wrong it felt to see that smile go tits up into the grave. 

Jeremy pulled back.

Michael wanted those touches back.

But Michael wasn’t that guy, right?

Wasn’t the type to grab back. Maybe allow. Maybe. 

Fucking shit.

Not a maybe. Not a fucking maybe.

Because Geoff was there, hovering with his touches. The first to get into Michael’s space and calm him down. Gavin, always in the background, mystified, a little pitiful, “Michael” like his touches were special, euphoric or some shit. And Michael would punch him in the arm, tell him to shut it. And it’d be normal.

But it wasn’t normal.

It wasn’t fucking-.

“I see…I see different universes, Jeremy.” It came out like sticky vomit, like rotting garbo. “Like our fucking GTA, Fake AH Crew shit, I see that. It’s real! And…and…okay, you can look at me like I’m high off my mind, but I know what I’ve seen, Jeremy. I don’t think it’s dreams, dude. I don’t think it is.”

And all those touches came spinning back and shit he has been slipping real hard. So fucking hard. Like, jesus, when he was drunk so many times and Jeremy’s hands, those hands that could grip bars and fling him to the sky, past the ceiling, the stars and the suns and the moons would hold, warm, solid against Michael’s neck. That sweet pressure spot that Michael would touch when he was nervous or when he really needed a cool down. A Michael only spot. Okay and a semi-Geoff spot. But Geoff was big boss. Didn’t mean nothing to have him touch there. Just a calm, hey idiot, a warning.

But, jesus fucking almighty, that spot when Jeremy grabbed it, held it, infused warmth through skin, it did shit to Michael. He had felt that warmth shoot straight to his dick, made him yearn for those hands on his stomach. Hold him down. Wrangle him. Choked back whimpers like he was being buried alive by these sensations.

The touches.

Not only that but just this easiness, this so simple, this curling in that Michael found himself doing way too fucking much with Jeremy. Like, recently, those Mario Party videos. Holy hell. Michael had counted the touches and lost count after ten. Just tapping Jeremy’s arm, reeling him in. Fucking pay attention to me, damn it. And Jeremy would. Would cast a look at him and would beg for his attention too. Some weird game where they got the love they needed but couldn’t express, wouldn’t dare proclaim.

And it was snowballing, rolling and tumbling into this moment, this revelation, this-.

“I don’t understand, buddy. You what…universes? Multiples?” Jeremy was huffing the words out like they were foreign, like Ryan was talking to him and using big words or someone had started going on about movies.

Michael fell back into his seat. A thud of dead body killed by Jeremy’s inability to just…fuck, for once Jeremy just couldn’t get it.

Michael knew he wouldn’t.

Shoved his glasses up. Rubbed his fingers over his eyes and just held them there, wishing that he could turn back time, that those touches wouldn’t’ve caused this.

But then, a hand, on his neck, kneading and Michael felt sick, like throwing up but throwing up usually helped his stomach. It wouldn’t this time. It wouldn’t.

“Michael, just-.” A sigh. Sharp, grating. “Help me out here, pal.”

Michael didn’t know how to, though.

Couldn’t just drag Jeremy into these universes with him. Hell, Michael wasn’t even sure what triggered his own slip into these worlds. 

“I don’t know how I get to ‘em, man. I just…I fall asleep and land there. Sometimes, it’s like a normal, dreamless sleep and then other times…” Michael shrugged because that’s all he could do.

Then, laughter. A single fucking laugh. “So, am I really Rimmy Tim or?”

Michael snapped his eyes open and punched that stupid idiot in his stupid, buff arm. “Fuck off fucking asshole.”

Jeremy pouted and rubbed at his arm. “Alright, alright, geez.” But then he shrugged too, mirroring Michael’s cluelessness. But Jeremy wasn’t silent. Which was good. He wasn’t covering his mouth in some weird cross between offensive and nervous. There was, okay, that laugh which eased out again and Michael waited with a deadpan stare for this great revelation or joke that this idiot was gonna lay on him. And Jeremy did, wink and all, said, “Guess I’ll have to sleep with ya to find out, eh?”

Michael rolled his eyes. 

But it was an idea, a start, a-.

“This was such a stupid fucking idea.”

Michael was laying curled up on his bed. Boxers on. No shirt. A.C. cranked to high heaven with Jeremy standing comically beside his bed fully clothed and toying with his shirt hem then his buckle and then the navy blue sheets. Jesus christ. Michael slammed his hand over those wandering fingers and yanked. Hard. Jeremy finally, fucking finally tumbled into the damn bed death oofs and curses and all.

“Get fucking naked or you’re sleeping outside tonight.” And for good added measure, “Pussy.”

Jeremy grumbled into the sheets. Then, rolled over. “Fine.” He tugged at belt buckle, pulled it through the loop, yanked it off and then came the jeans. Michael turned over, away, tried not to think about watching, about how big Jeremy’s dick energy must be damn true, because, really, he had tumbled into Jeremy enough times to slip a feel or too and well….not all nights were dreamless…or innocent.

More clothing gone and rustled, and Jeremy was next to him, a warm, heavy weight like his hands on Michael’s neck.

“So…” Jeremy trailed off and his hot breath was too much for Michael’s freed up neck skin, so Michael rolled on his beck and watched those eyes, brown and muddled in the dark, drink him in and impossibly shatter him. “What worlds do you, uh…” Jeremy coughed. “What worlds are out there?”

And Michael couldn’t help but smile just a little because the kid was trying. Failing but trying. “Well, you’re some asshole run and gun hire in GTA like me and Ryan.” Jeremy nodded, a smile peeking out and damn it. Just damn it. “And then, heh, Sky Factory came up once. You fucking…you had drained all the damn animals in the world and I had a whole like forest and shit to myself. That one was cool.”

Jeremy nodded through the whole thing, but Michael knew that he was thinking, what with those damn restless fingers of his tracing weird patterns in the sheets. And those thoughts came, as swirly as those patterns, upended and said aloud, “Is it…is it just me and you or…?”

And again.

Those touches came up. 

And, yeah, of fucking course it was just Jeremy and him. Always. Whether it was the ghost of a thought about him, Jeremy was there in every single damn one.

And Michael clammed up.

Just rested there on his back, hands on his stomach, white knuckled and clenched like earlier.

And he watched the ceiling, wished that the sky world was spinning above him right now to swallow his stupid ass whole.

And he thought of…of what not to say and what to say and nothing seemed good.

And Jeremy just…

Sank back, pulled away and laughed it all off, said, “Welp. Doesn’t matter. I’ll see when I get there, right?”

And what could Michael do now because he was well and truly fucked. He was here. In his own bed. With Jeremy next to him. About to pull Jeremy into this weird time slip where he eased in between multiple universes.

And jesus fuck what was Michael gonna do when Jeremy started guessing, when he got curious, when he started piecing things together, that, jesus hell, that-.

Michael loved him.

That in every damn universe Michael loved him.

In the GTA verse, Michael and Jeremy gravitated towards guns and explosives, to fire and noise, to crackles and thunder. That it had been going over 100 mph down a highway with Jeremy driving to make Michael realize that sure he loved fast and fire and crackles on a lighter, but he loved them more when it was attached to Jeremy’s name, to those hands. 

In the sky world, Michael and Jeremy made light together as they roamed in Michael’s forest. That vicious pull of night and death clashed sweetly with the light that Michael forged, with the life that he had created in plants, in portals, in magic. An entanglement of light and dark, in death and life. Both restoring each. One not without the other.

And how this reflected back to Michael’s real, current life. 

How much he needed Jeremy.

That never changed.

How Jeremy reciprocated…

Michael would never be ready for that stutter step, that leap, that-.

It was the morning after.

And, of course, of fucking course, that night had ruined it.

And what did Michael do?

He pulled away. 

No more touches.

Stilted conversations.

He pulled away.

Fought tooth and nail against the image of a deflated Jeremy, of how his skin seemed to tremble now, in lack of that grounding warmth.

He pulled away.

But the dreams didn’t.

No, they responded.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This chapter features time skips.**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  **If there is a + in between scenes, then this means a time skip**.
> 
>  **Warnings:** This is where the **Mature** rating comes into play, specifically due to **sexual imagery and language** as well as **sexual content** , which is just grinding but still.
> 
> Special thank you to everyone who supported this! I love you all very much <3.

It had been real awkward for a while now ever since that one stupid night that Michael had spent with Jeremy during the worst slips into their Fake AH world that Michael had even been a part of. And of course Jeremy had been there for that one. Of fucking course.

But, yeah, it was real awkward.

Like stilted conversations and zero touches kinda awkward.

And it was okay because everyone was busy, and Michael could put up a real damn good front, could even make sure that Jeremy didn’t fucking go completely silent on him in pure frothing anger. But that was the thing. Jeremy was trying to get to Michael and Michael could see this plain as day, but he kept just scooting out of the way as much as possible. Had him on Off Topic. Kept him far away from him, on the complete other side of the table and put Geoff next to himself. Never looked at that side of the table even when Jeremy told a story. Never even looked at the guy as Jeremy ran over with that look and that adorable tongue out thing he does whenever Michael wasn’t paying attention to him fast enough. 

But then Geoff came in with, “New level in that Crash remake. Do it.” 

And now, Michael was here, in full blown mask mode, nothing’s fucking wrong, don’t fucking touch me, with Jeremy warm and real and tangible beside him.

It was just so simple to create this bubble in this tiny room, knocking knees and chair legs together and smiling about good attempts and bitching together on bad ones.

It was just so simple to remember times during videos where it seemed like only them were in it.

It was just so simple to dream that the future could be more of this and not something horrid and silent.

“So what’s our uh team name? Team....” Michael said.

“East coast?” Jeremy paused. “Or like short temper or some shit?” Jeremy laughed then, and it wasn’t because Michael had led Crash to a brutal death. He had just restarted the level and was watching Crash bounce a bit, both of them kinda waiting for Jeremy to finish, to say-.

"So, last night, when we uh-.”

And, alright, Michael Jones didn’t blush, but he went wide eyed, cursing that night even more so now. Like in a video! What the fuck was Jeremy doing? He whipped a bit, the shock hitting him, as he watched Jeremy laugh and laugh and refuse to finish the damn sentence. Like, look, the last fucking thing Michael wanted on this damn planet was to get the audience on his ass. He didn’t need extra people and all that extra attention goading at him wondering why he was leaving Michael’s ass in the dust, why suddenly Jeremy was more buddy buddy with Gavin, fucking Gavin, or Ryan, which was a little more acceptable. 

No, Michael didn’t need this. Didn’t need this needling attempt to get them back to being buddies. Didn’t need Jeremy and didn’t need him wanting to slip worlds with him again. Didn’t need Jeremy getting curious. Didn’t need Jeremy to make connections, that maybe the Michael that they saw that night wasn’t as different as the Michael he knew. He just wanted simple. A thoughtless simple. But simple meant none of these conversations. Eradicate the before in order to silence the future. Michael was just so damn wishy washy on what he wanted. Didn’t know what was worse; shutting up or spitting out what was wrong. 

And what was Jeremy gonna bring up anyway about that night? He spat out, "When we what? Finish the sentence, man!"

"When we uh-.”

"Jeremy! Stop!" And added for good measure, "Jeremy, please."

Jeremy slapped his knees a bit as he wheeled around in the chair. Covered his face in that nervous way he does, like when he axe kicked Jeremy’s desk and Michael stood by in ‘duh’ silence. Jeremy’s reaction was not gonna make the audience’s accusations any better, though, and Jeremy’s inability to get the damn sentence out was even worse. "Fucking last night when we hung out-"

"Jesus, there ya go." Coaxed him on even though Michael was suddenly scared. Could feel his heart yearning to snatch whatever words Jeremy was gonna say. Could feel his hands twitch to stop the recording, to throw open that door and leave. Just run. Under sky and explosions and phasing through brick and mortar because you’re scared, you’re so fucking terrified, you’re-.

"I thought that we could be Rimgar."

The way Jeremy said it made Michael wanna sing praises, but he also wanted to strangle him. That stupid shit eating grin that was revealed when Jeremy dropped his nervousness, dropped his hands from his face and turned to Michael. 

Michael dead stared his stupid ass. "Fucking Rimgar?" Because, alright, on second thought, no, this wouldn’t help the audience’s accusations either. 

Jeremy shrugged. "What? It’s not that bad."

"Not bad?” Michael scoffed. “Jeremy, it sounds like you’re rimming Mogar." And for extra, dramatic effect, “And Mogar wouldn’t bottom.” Even though, well, Michael himself had thought about it and had promptly shoved it down multiple times. 

"What? You want Timgar or something instead?"

"No!”

“What about Motimmy like y’know, Motimmy mo’ problems. No? Uh, Mogtim?” 

“No! Neither of those sound good. Neither one."

"Just jealous that Rimmy Tim goes on top. And I did try to make Mogar on top, but it sounds weird."

“Oh, that’s the one that sounds weird.” Michael shook his head and returned to the game where Crash was watching lasers pulse in and out of existence. Fire. Shit. Maybe Jeremy should do this level instead. He swallowed that back, reminded himself that both Jeremys made it damn it. "No, I’m not and we’re both gonna pretend this didn’t happen.” 

And there it was.

A stunning, stinging truth that spun around the dead air between them for a little too long. 

Michael wanted to just get back to the damn game, had already gone past the lasers, had expertly guided Crash along platforms with moving belts, over jumps, and-.

“I wanna fucking hit you.”

Crash jumped to his death and Michael dropped the controller on the floor. Didn’t hear the thud, just stared at the screen, then at Jeremy, meeting his gaze as he turned his chair to face him. “What?”

“I wanna fucking hit you.” Jeremy repeated it and now it was even more serious. His eyes were practically on fire like someone they had tumbled into the Earth’s core. Molten. “Seriously. What’s the big deal about that night? Why is it…I mean you won’t talk to me or fucking anyone! Like I fucking almost died, so what? We were like…what was it? Immortal or some shit? I was fine! You were fine!” A sharp twist of his chair, Jeremy jerked forward, closer until his knee slipped in between Michael’s knees and Michael felt it, felt its searing intent as Jeremy placed both hands on Michael’s thighs and held him there. And stared. “I know we’re both like shit at communicating like emotions are just horrible but please, help me out here, buddy.”

And Michael was stuck again like when he first told Jeremy about these world slips because he didn’t know how to just say it. But maybe it wasn’t the how, it was the revelation that was the problem.

Fuck it.

Michael was sick of this.

Just bite the bullet.

Spat out, “I think every one of me is in love with you.”

Threw those fucking warm and nice hands off his damn thighs, tossed back the chair until it clattered on the floor, and fucking left like he had dropped a damn bomb. And it was.

It was the bomb.

It was a bomb.

It was a bomb.

It was-.

+

_The man is speeding down the Great Ocean Highway and is heading straight for the tunnel but there’s-. Jesus christ!_

Explosions rocked the night air of Los Santos, turning cars and people into melted bits right outside the tunnel entrance. 

For once, Michael had paused when he had hit the button for the explosion. Didn’t wanna see what they could cause again laid out before him. God, he never had a damn problem before. Had always loved his fire, his light, his guide in the dark, but seeing it almost eradicate someone close, as close as the light, as the fire. Yeah, hitting that button required a scream or two at himself to stop fucking it up, to stop being a pussy, to somehow make it a present with a bow on top for the idiot asshole in the passenger seat beside him.

A heart skip and an adrenaline beat, plus a few choice insults towards his stupid self, and the tunnel entrance was blown.

The siren lights behind him blended in with the fire. Made for a pretty picture as the night backdrop, the stars and the crashing sea. Light. Always light.

Michael breathed in deep and managed a cackle despite the lingering irrationality, and the bruising truth of fear, said, “It’s gonna be a little tight, boy!”

And he swore he could hear Jeremy whoop then cough then whine. It all muddled together under light as-.

_The tunnels blocked! He has nowhere to go! He-. He just phased through the wall and the uh, stone, the brick. He just did that! Did you see that?_

Michael flew up in the Kit and above the chaos. Jeremy in the passenger seat beside him barely fucking hanging on. And they’re immortal right? Could phase through walls and shit but anxiety, that awful sick feeling of creeping death and darkness didn’t settle on rationality. It didn’t care about immortality.

It asked, what if tonight was the night it ran out? It asked, what if it took Jeremy? It asked, what would you do without him? It asked, why was it now when you realized that you loved him?

And Jeremy’s still just groaning, “Michael.” And he’s smiling, just fucking smiling. “Pass me the Four Lokos.” 

Michael wanted to laugh, okay he kinda did because of course Jeremy would ask for a stale disgusting drink made of poisonous rat turds and a ruiner of good sour apple but not now, it wasn’t the right time now.

And of course, Jeremy would start up the grabby hands and start shifting around for it despite a burnt up arm, maybe a broken wrist, and who knows what the fuck else. Michael didn’t do screaming so he just yanked the Four Lokos from the center console, jammed his thumb on the button for the window, and tossed it into open air. There, it sailed.

And Jeremy scrambled to see it whip and spin around in the sky, pout on full blast.

But Michael remained silent, just fumed. 

Replayed those moments over and over on repeat, just over and over. 

Of thinking that Jeremy was right the fuck behind him, feeling his hand brush his as Michael reached for the shotgun tucked behind his waistband. But then the explosion. The pinging in his ears that didn’t make him stagger as much as it first did when Michael started using fire. The smell of it, coarse and horrible, made him choke, made Jeremy’s name come out half empty. 

And Jeremy gone.

Slipped away from him just like that. Caught somewhere in the fire and smoke. Had to crawl, kill all the baddies, and fight past the bitching his lungs were giving him to get to those pieces of purple and orange and a rouge cowboy hat missing its owner. Found Jeremy on concrete, half in water, covered in smoke and battered. 

Thrown him over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry and booked it. Tossed him into the Kit, buckled him in, and drove. Got caught in the cop’s sights, phased through brick and motor, and now they were here.

Stuck in this weirdo silence where Michael was sunken in from adrenaline crashes but most importantly, from that stupid thing called fear.

See, Michael had stamped that out of him when he started roaming the streets looking for an identity in all the cracks and divots of New Jersey. Got lost, got nearly killed a dozen times, killed others just as many, saw someone close die, and met his end only to reappear for the cycle to begin again. 

Didn’t find anything else in New Jersey to make him stick around so he ran away. Found gangs, bad ones that treated him like an after thought or a liability, until he got sneaked into Los Santos’ chaos and slipped under Geoff’s wing and found a foreign word, a hidden meaning. Family. 

Then met Jeremy. 

In that car garage tinkering with their underbellies and rapping something off key and creative. Michael had felt drawn in, had startled the poor kid and knocked his bright ass blue hair into the oil of the car. Laughed his damn ass off at the sight of this short ass, stocky kid with an emo dye job colored into unruly hair, not as crazy as Michael’s hair but still, and covered in oil and wearing the worst color combo he had ever seen.

And that was that.

Michael had not only found himself a family, but he had allowed in a friend who was as good as a gun and run as he was. Except, well, Michael was the best at explosives. And the only one at that. 

And then there were nights after jobs where sleep was a foreign, unreachable concept and they had played games together. Kept close, kept watch, and laughed and played. Found gems with the kid, whipped shotguns, and had a blast, both in the games and outside them. 

“Michael, watch me do this!”

And after, “Jeremy,” when it evidently led to the cops on their tails, light and explosions always a marker of who came through Los Santos’ dark streets. 

Then, with always a laugh stuck in his voice, Jeremy’s loud, “What’s up?” and Michael’s response, “You know what!”

Always a constant back and forth with the destroyer and the accuser always different but nevertheless fun.

Allowed themselves the thought of better days, a slip into a time where they could be kids. 

The immortality thing was also a reason they stayed close. It had happened after a near death experience. Michael refused to bring it up and Jeremy followed suit. Until…

This moment.

In the car.

After almost losing Jeremy and then gaining this revelation that, yeah, Michael had found himself a family and a friend, but he had also accidently found himself in love.

And so, as he eased the Kit above and around mountains, doing little dances to escape the circle of police helicopters behind them, just waiting for the all clear, he murmured, “Got stabbed in a back alley in Jersey with this guy that I had hung around with for a while. Really liked that guy, y’know. Maybe could’ve loved him, I don’t fucking know.” It had been a two for one special for Michael. Lose a guy you like, someone close to you, and then lose yourself to death only to resurrect. 

And right now, he didn’t know if Jeremy was awake, almost didn’t care because it felt good to let it out, to feel soothed about letting someone else who he was close with know. Almost like a reminder that he could be less of that New Jersey kid and more of this new age Michael where other people mattered, and other people thought he mattered. 

But then, the kid shifted, and Michael knew he was listening. Michael cleared his throat of his heart’s shrapnel, of the reminder of before and the echoes of it that pulsed in the now, when he almost lost Jeremy too. He continued, “So, call me a little fucked up if I had a freak out over you dying for real and for uh-.” Bit the bullet, spat out, “And for, uh, y’know, loving you and shit.”

Jeremy scoffed, a reaction that felt outta place, like Michael wasn’t gonna get punched in the damn teeth for being a disgusting pussy. “And shit? Well, gee, tell me how you really feel, buddy.” 

Michael rolled his eyes and dared to ask, “Well?”

Dared even to meet Jeremy’s eyes.

And they were on him. Watching.

Jeremy’s head was leaning against the dashboard. Michael had put him in kinda wonky alright but there was so little time and too much fear. His knees were jammed up against the back of the seat, feet in bloody boots pressed against where his ass should’ve gone. Right arm cradled against his chest. Must’ve been the broken one. But those eyes always on Michael. 

Michael looked back at the sky above, jerking the Kit away from a cliff just in time. Rose her back up just in case Michael dipped her accidently again. “Got shot for being cocky.”

Michael rolled his eyes. Classic Jeremy. “Well, of course.”

Jeremy belted out a sharp laugh and there the Kit went. Swerved and dipped until Michael decided fuck it, he was done, and just whipped her down until he could land her on dust and dirt. A field of nothing surrounded by rocks and mountains. Peace in the midst of Los Santo’s chaos, in the midst of whatever this was.

Michael just kept breathing, in, out. Heard Jeremy struggle to move again, bit out, “Don’t fucking move, idiot.” And the insult came out so soft, the words so breathy like when he had called out for Jeremy with barely a lung to breathe with. 

Michael finally looked again at Jeremy and saw those eyes again but now there was a smile coupled with them, something that reminded Michael of fire crackles, of that heady sensation of saving Jeremy even if they were immortal, of being able to right the wrongs of the past and move on to something better. And, yeah, Michael couldn’t help but smile too.

+

Except Michael wasn’t smiling when he had woken up from that time slip next to Jeremy. Saw him still dead asleep tangled up in sheets from moving around too much. Even felt a bruise or two on his shins from where Jeremy must’ve kicked him, and Michael just laid there, feeling these aches, and fucking praying that Jeremy hadn’t been there for that whole time slip, that he hadn’t been there for all of it. 

He kept asking himself, how much did Jeremy see? What connections did he make about Michael, about them? 

Could he sense everything that Michael was feeling?

Was he there for that end conversation, that one that felt a lot like a new beginning for this Fake AH Crew version of themselves? 

Michael had left for work early that day, left a note because he wasn’t a complete asshole, and had avoided Jeremy since.

But, now, Jeremy had forced it all to a head, had looked at him like he had in the Kit, and Michael had fucking burst, had said the ‘l’ word and everything. Love. Fucking hell. 

Leaving work abruptly wasn’t an option.

Avoiding Jeremy wasn’t an option. 

So, Michael stood there like some idiot out in the hallway, pacing in front of the door to the Achievement Hunter office. He half begged for Jeremy to just come outta that room already but also half pleaded with whoever was controlling this fuck fest to not let that happen, to have some sort of black hole appear in the Playps room and suck Jeremy in.

He just-. 

He wanted-.

“Michael?”

Jeremy.

Michael sucked in the deepest breath he could and paused his pacing, met Jeremy face to face and he didn’t like what he saw. Jeremy looked pissed. 

Michael suddenly wanted to be able to talk to the Fake AH Crew Jeremy and Michael. They made it look so damn fucking easy. It wasn’t convoluted with them. Oh, you love me? Cool, same. Move on. They had been splintered, irreparable, but they had grown. Light. Found light.

Right here, in the real and true now, Michael felt like he was searching in a dark room for light switches. He had never ached for anyone before. Liked sure. Ached, no. Became soft and muddled, walls down, no. Confused and fearful, fucking never. He was y’know Mogar. He didn’t do this stupid petty shit where he sobbed in his room because of a dinky crush. 

Jesus.

Get your fucking act together.

But then-.

Jeremy, all riled up and bunched shoulders and tight jaw, stepped forward, so damn close that their shoes were tip to tip, and then he just reached up, probably on his damn tippy toes, and held Michael by the neck with his right hand and hooked him by his t-shirt sleeve with the other. 

Michael, frozen, in that touch stuttered out, “I’m so fucking sorry I just shit all over your damn life, Jeremy.” Because Jeremy was mad at him, right? Could almost feel the ripples of it from the warm, solid touches he yielded. “I’m just an asshole for having you deal with all this shit.” Kept his gaze down, on Jeremy’s tilted head. Met his eyes. “The time slips, the uh, whole fucking gay crush on you.” The next part tumbled out, “And it’s just you, well, shitty Rimmy Tim you, almost died from that explosion and it fucking rattled me.”

Jeremy’s hold on Michael’s neck slipped. Michael scrunched his eyebrows up, tilting his head to the side as Jeremy’s pissed features relaxed into something off.

Wait. “The explosion? Hello? I’m sure you were fucking there, Jeremy! No one else would wear that hideous purple and orange shit.” 

But Jeremy still just wouldn’t say anything, just looked at Michael like he was a trivia question he couldn’t get. Finally, he said, “No, I was in...wait, you were in the Los Santos’ time slip thingy.” 

Said it like a statement and it was. Right? Michael rose an eyebrow, “Yeah?”

Jeremy pulled back a bit. Gave them space and now Michael was more worried about the whole Jeremy being pissed at him thing. “But I was in the sky world one.” 

And what the fuck?

Michael didn’t know how to handle this. How did they manage to slip into different ones? Time was a weird fucking concept man, but then that meant-. "Wait you almost died in yours?" Because talk about coincidences, talk-.

What did that Jeremy and Michael talk about?

What if the Sky Factory versions of themselves didn’t have a love revelation? Was there something there that made Jeremy all pissy or was it something else?

Jeremy nodded, and Michael dared, "So, what happened in yours?"

Jeremy laughed then stepped forward again. “I saw them…us, whatever, do this and uh, here.” Jeremy reached in an aborted attempt for Michael’s hand and Michael whipped back a bit. 

“That’s fucking stupid.”

Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Just fucking do it, man.” 

Jeremy grabbed Michael’s hand and Michael jerked when Jeremy wiggled their hands around until their fingers were interlaced and held up in the air between them like they were summoning a demon through the power of friendship or something equally as stupid.

And Michael’s fingers were sweating bullets at the strong hold that Jeremy had that was now encased all around his own hands. Michael sighed and let their joined hands drop, Jeremy fumbling a bit but following his lead. Now they rested between them with their arms relaxed and really Michael didn’t know which version of their hands were worse.

He frowned. “This isn’t working. You piece of shit hands. Work!”

Jeremy giggled. Michael, you gotta be patient buddy.”

“Patient my ass. I-

And there it was.

The spin, the rise and drop, into-.

+

A meow.

Michael sighed. “If I hear that goddamn cat meow one more goddamn time, I’m getting the water bucket and he’s going swimming!”

Another meow, this time also sounding spiteful like the cat knew that Michael was seething. “That’s it! Get your floaties kitty ‘cause you’re going bye bye!”

“No, no, Michael wait!”

Jeremy burst through the wall of trees to Michael’s forest. Michael watched him dart around like a cartoon character, picking up the screaming cat and then running around as if he somehow forgot how to get out of Michael’s area.

“Jeremy.” Sighed. Hard. 

And Jeremy just pouted at him. “Michael.” He whined and begged, said, “I can’t have Booker with me. He gets hurt! His blood is not the one I need to be sucking up!”

“Well, he’s sucking me up by being here!” Because Michael needed to get these light balls ready or Ryan was gonna start cutting his head off. Or throw him off the damn platforms, ability to come back be fucking damned. Plus, all the other people on all the other platforms across the sky needed them too. Not everyone was a damn expert here. But the cat just wouldn’t shut the fuck up and the deadline was itching at Michael’s skull and, okay, there was something else, but Michael didn’t wanna think about that quite yet. And Jeremy didn’t need to hear it yet, so he added, “I just need to get this done, man. Please.”

Jeremy sighed. “What if I put him in here?” A nice convenient box turned home, and there Booker sat, curled up like a loaf. “See, he’s purring! Awe, Book, are you gonna watch Michael for me and make sure he doesn’t start plotting my death?”

Michael rolled his eyes. “’S not you idiot that’s the damn issue.” Then, just gave in and gave up because this was Jeremy and okay even though the cat was pissing off every last nerve and brain cell that Michael had left, he was gonna let the cat stay. For Jeremy. Fuck the cat, though. “But whatever.”

Jeremy smiled and ran over to him, pulled him into the tightest hug and Michael went a little stiff, still not used to the whole ‘hey, I landed on this sky platform after a botched jet pack attempt, can I stay, or do I have to be kicked back to no man’s land over there?’ and then finding himself a family. 

Finally, and a little sadly, Jeremy let go and Michael watched him pet the cat, give Michael a salute, and vanish through forest and brush to his platform where he sucked the lifeforms out of monsters and spun their blood into useable energy and weapons to combat the night, and for other communities in the sky that weren’t as lucky as the group that Michael had found and befriended. 

And now, in the silence, Michael was left with the lingering shivers that Jeremy had been giving him a while now. 

And the light.

Michael looked down at the present that he had managed to cover before Jeremy slipped on to his platform. Red and black lights that would look damn good hanging above Jeremy’s blood alter. A weird gift, sure. A little soft, at least in terms of Michael being the one to give it. But it was something. 

It was…what was it?

It was-.

“Michael!”

It had echoed through leaves and bark. It had made Michael burst and shake into a run. He eased through the forest, felt like he was slipping in between air particles at how fast he was going. Blurred in and out and burst on the other side to see, to see-.

Jeremy, half off the edge.

Michael looked around him, for something that might help. And, heh, well.

He clutched the lights that he had picked up and never dropped.

Shaking his head, he sprinted over to Jeremy whose fingers were white knuckling the Earth, the platform that he was hanging off of. Michael murmured, “I gotcha. Hold the fuck on.” Wrapped the black and red lights around Jeremy’s form and yanked. Fucking hell, the kid was heavy, what with him being a bulky piece of shit who gymnastic-d his way around Michael’s trees for fun. 

Pulled and pulled until Jeremy was up enough where he could scramble away from the edge. 

They laid there.

Jeremy so still except for his rapid wheezes. Laid there on Michael, his face pressed against Michael’s stomach. Michael hesitated before wrapping his arms around Jeremy. It was pointless. Their fear was pointless.

They could respawn. Had killed Gavin enough times for funsies to know that. But this wasn’t a fun killing. It was a slip off a platform and if Michael hadn’t been fast enough, he would’ve been a witness to it. And it would’ve fueled his nightmares, that creeping dark. 

Glanced around him at the death that Jeremy created, the weird groans and moans of all the creatures as they were being automatedly killed and respawned. All to create life and support for that life. 

Michael’s friends were a select group that could respawn. An experiment gone wrong. Something about nuclear explosions that rocked the Earth and then waking up here in the sky world. All there was left to do was rebuild. The whole respawning thing was almost like a sick gift for surviving. 

But that explosion, no matter what, was always at the back of everyone’s heads. Ryan, as he ensured nuclear meltdowns were inexcusable actions. Gavin, as he shied away from what Ryan did and instead harnessed light for its powers, a lover of the sun and of molten gold. Jack, as he cultivated plants, and drinks with their own little intricacies that aided their bodies in many ways. Ensure basic necessities always. Geoff, as he expanded his farms and gained not only meat, leather, and wool but gems and building materials.

Survival.

It was still about survival. A fear born from surviving. 

So, of course Michael squeezed Jeremy that much harder and checked pulse, checked everything, before finally pushing Jeremy enough to get him off and get him spinning the lights off his body. 

Michael would’ve laughed but Jeremy was still so quiet.

“What’s up, little J?”

Nothing.

Frowning, Michael moved to rest on his elbows, so he could kinda hover over Jeremy who had settled on his back. Jeremy met his gaze and said, “Were these for me?”

Michael looked at the lights that were now next to them. They were still twinkling away. Michael’s light wand felt heavy in his pocket. “Yeah.” Laughed. “Red and black, y’know, to match the weird, dark shit you do over here.”

But Jeremy didn’t even manage a chuckle. He just…hunched in on himself, became even smaller than he was. “You saved me.”

Michael nodded. “Yeah. Duh.”

“Why?”

That’s what Michael wondered but he knew the answers or, well, the answer. “Yeah, you can respawn but you’re not…nothing about you-. Fucking hell.” Michael bit his lip, watching as Jeremy grabbed a piece of the red and black lights, smoothing his thumb over the bulbs. “You mean more to me than fucking Gavin.”

There, a laugh. “Well, you sure know how to make a guy feel special.” Michael smiled, something wide and too close to the heart. He tried to scramble up to standing position and away from this weird, almost revelation moment that they had because Jeremy was never gonna know one of the big reasons Michael made those damn lights, didn’t want-. “You know…telling someone you really like them also works. Didn’t have to go all heroic on me and bring me twinkly lights.”

And, jesus, Jeremy’s eyes, a grounding, Earthy thing that reminded Michael of the platforms that they were on. Safety. Survival. They hooked Michael in and Michael searched for something in them. A joke, perhaps. That maybe this was Jeremy yanking his chain. But Jeremy just glowed, twinkled like those lights. Red and black swirls of light. 

And Michael always, always gravitated towards light.

He leaned back down on his elbows, hovered over Jeremy’s stupidly proud form for guessing Michael right and kissed that fucking smirk away. “Idiot.” Soft. Muddled. And Jeremy tossed the lights away in favor of grabbing Michael’s hands and keeping him still, there, with him as their worlds and other universes, thoughts and emotions flowed back and forth into each other. A stutter shock was what it was, but Michael let Jeremy in, let it happen. Communicating through touch the scariness of the moment and then the ride, the high of settling in love sick harmony. 

Held each other, there, in tangled communication. 

Here, together. Forever.

+

Now.

In the hallway.

Real life.

Outside the Achievement Hunter office.

Holding Jeremy’s hands.

Snapped back to this and Michael…

Fell in and through.

Realized, now, when they slipped into different worlds was because this hand touch was lacking. All that confusion and miscommunication caused by one single lack. Realized, now, with their hands interlocked everything that Jeremy had experienced from then to now like a queasy, up ended rollercoaster that smoothed into this, this revelation and restoration, this giving and yielding, of what they had once buried but could now become unearthed for this was them. It was always them. Here, together. Anywhere, together.

And Michael leaned down, quick, as if this moment was gonna dissipate like a dream, a time slip, and kissed dry lips that tasted of cold air and sticky artificial flavors. 

And Jeremy melted under his touch, allowed Michael in.

Michael delved in deeper and tongued away traces of red bull. Hooked his tongue with Jeremy’s and let the man caress him from inside mouth to those damn hands now, suddenly on the back of his neck. Warm, strong. Like where they should always be. Couldn’t help but whimper, submit, become smaller under that strong warm, solid hold.

Tipped backwards at Jeremy’s push and shove, at the strength he suddenly yielded. Like a back and forth game. Get Jeremy to suck his tongue and then slip a hand under Jeremy’s shirt and smooth against skin to get Jeremy to shiver.

Jeremy pushing him back, back, until Michael was pressed against the wall. Kicked out Michael’s legs, kept them wide open for Jeremy’s smaller form to fit perfectly in between, to settle in. And Michael grabbed belt loops and yanked until their dicks met, until Michael could ride the high of feeling Jeremy’s dick stutter and twitch, ride the high of that delicious stabbing pleasure that was rippling through him like puddles, like water. 

Could feel himself fucking slipping, fucking constantly whimpering as Jeremy ground down and his hands found pleasure spots. Rough touches coupled with suddenly itchy fabric over Michael’s nipples and the back of his head banged into the wall, his hips lifted, and he yanked away from that fucking kiss to heave in and out some air. And Jeremy’s twisted chuckle as he watched Michael. God those eyes of muddled Earth clumping Michael in, compacting him, swallowing him. A caress compared to the rough passes of Jeremys fingers that Michael could feel over his nipples even through his t-shirt. Michael arched a bit and smirked when those fingers trembled at his constant movement, at the constant hit of their dicks that it made.

“Jesus, Jeremy.” 

Jeremy laughed. “We’re a couple of ‘ole freaks doing it outside the office.” Michael rolled his eyes, pushing at the other’s chest a bit. 

“Thanks for the fucking reminder.”

But Jeremy was right.

They were outside the office practically in a porno. But whatever. Michael got Jeremy. That was all that mattered to him. Fuck the other guys. They could make fun of Michael however much they wanted. Didn’t matter when this whole time, all these time slips, jesus, it was always Michael and Jeremy. Together. In every single damn one. That was the point of them. To come to this moment. Michael suddenly wanted to see other universes, wanted to experience it with Jeremy too.

He hummed, leaned down and kissed Jeremy. Lingered there. Didn’t wanna move. Jeremy’s hand on his neck moved to Michael’s back and Michael’s own hands scritch scratched their way gently to Jeremy’s waist. Held him close.

“We’re both fucking idiots.”

Jeremy snorted. “What a revelation, pal.”

Michael shrugged. “We got there, though.”

“True.” 

Michael wondered, though, just to make sure, “When we touched hands…did you see the Fake AH one that I did?”

Jeremy nodded. “Now I really want a Four LoKo.”

And that made Michael shove him off and away. “Disgusting dude.”

“Hey! Rimmy Tim me had the best ideas ever. We need to replicate them.” Michael shook his head. “Okay, maybe in GTA video game only? Michael. Michael, please. Jeremy destroy. Please.”

Michael looked down at his weirdo…something or other…boyfriend? And just smiled. Couldn’t help but radiate at the mess they both were but Jeremy was his mess. In all the universes that he knew of so far. His. Jeremy knew that now. And so did Michael. Yeah, his. And that made it all the better. He sighed, “Fine but I get first dibs on who gets whose ass.”

“Deal!”

Jeremy gave him a quick kiss then whipped open the Achievement Hunter office door only to announce, “Guess what fuckers! Michael and I are together and it’s time to kick ass in GTA Rimgar style!”

And Michael, happily as ever, screamed back, “It’s gonna be Mogtim when we get home, baby!”

And to see Jeremy light up and banter with him, to get to be able to kiss that smile and that banter away, yeah, forever and in many universes sounded like the perfect revelation and restoration to Michael’s soul.


End file.
